Thundering Moments of Tenderness Rage
by RagdollPrincess
Summary: Line of Durin One-Shots. Could be AU or modern Day. Anything goes. Updates infrequent depending on when inspiration takes me.
1. Fili - Christmas

**A/N: This came to me as I was sitting in the freezing cold paying for parking this morning. I'm not usually a Fili girl, but a recent convo with kkolmakov (whose work you should really check out) got me on a Fili kick. Don't worry, this won't interfere with my update of my other story :D By the way, everything is owned by Tolkien except the title which is a lyric from a Garth Brooks song. **

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The first time she saw him, he was dropping his three daughters off at the daycare while she was dropping her two boys off. They were young, the littlest probably not more than ten months old, and all three shared his thick golden blond hair. The air of sadness and despair over him was almost tangible, and the children all cried as he left them, the second youngest wailing and screaming brokenheartedly. She thought they must just be just starting at daycare, maybe their mother going back to work after staying home until they were finished having children. She saw barely withheld tears in his eyes as he reluctantly exited the facility. As she walked to her car after her sons ran into the group, ready to play, she saw him standing beside his van, his head leaning against the window on the passenger side, holding a diaper bag. She couldn't help but approach him, as his van was parked right next to her car and she had to sneak past him to get into her door. She considered crawling through the passenger side to avoid an awkward encounter but thought it might be stranger than if she interrupted him.

The snow crunched under her boots as she approached, alerting him of her presence. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I just need …" She gestured to her car door. She trailed off as she saw the tears streaming down his cheeks. She noticed the dark shadows under his eyes and the pale sheen of his skin, looking as though he'd been unwell lately.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, turning away to put the diaper bag in the van and let her pass.

As she fumbled with the keys to her car, she felt she needed to say something. "It gets better," she said, turning to him. He looked down at the ground instead of at her but paused. "It'll get easier, to leave them. This is a good place, but it's heartbreaking at first. Every parent goes through it."

He laughed at her words, a cold unkind laugh, staring at the ground. He nodded once before slamming the van door shut and walking around to the driver's side. She stood watching as he threw the van into gear and sped out of the parking lot.

She didn't see him again for a long while after that. They were on different schedules, and she saw his girls there every morning when she dropped her boys off. She next daw him at the daycare Christmas party ten months later. Her boys loved the daycare Christmas party. They dragged her to the ball pit and demanded that she watch them try to surf over the surface. She wondered how many kids had already peed in the pit, blocking out the thought and hoping her kids wouldn't be one of them.

She saw his blond hair first, long and thick, hanging free over his shoulders. He was standing with his back to her and was holding his toddler in his arms, watching the two older girls get their faces painted. One was a cat, and the other a butterfly. He turned his face to the youngest he was holding in his arms, and she saw he looked happier, healthier than when she'd first seen him. She smiled at his youngest, stroking his finger over her cheek as he asked her a question. She nodded, and he put her on the floor where she stood beside him holding his hand while gnawing on a cookie.

"Mom!" her youngest yelled. "Mom! You're not even watching!" he shrieked over the jumble of voices. Several parents turn to glance at her. Leave it to her youngest to be able to yell loudly enough to drown out even the loudest conversation in the room.

She turned back to him, watching as he attempted a backflip off a platform into the ball pit, succeeding in an awkward twisted belly flop. She clapped and cheered loudly, and he grinned at her, waving. She noticed two blond headed girls with faces painted jump into the pit as well. Eyeing her loud son warily as he made a loud war cry and pretended to karate chop his older brother, they joined hands and moved to the other side of the pit away from the hyper boys, where they tried to float on the balls on their backs, giggling to each other as they glanced back at her boys, who now have each other in headlocks.

"Hey!" she said, in a tone that is unmistakable. "Knock it off." Her boys conceded begrudgingly before deciding to race from one side of the pit to the other, laughing at their impeded progress from the balls.

"Always looking for trouble," a low voice said close behind her. "My brother and I were the same way."

She turned to see him standing there, smiling as he watched her oldest son body check the youngest and try to push his head under the balls.

"Always!" she sighed, smiling at him. He held the toddler again, whose entire face and hands were covered in sticky crumbs from the cookies, which she'd smearing over her dad's grey t-shirt and mashed into his hair.

She tried not to gaze at the way his t-shirt clings to his hard muscled chest, pulling her eyes away as she felt a blush stain her cheeks.

"I never thanked you," he said.

"Sorry?" she asked, her thoughts pulled away from her salacious thoughts.

"I never thanked you, for your kind words that day in the parking lot." His blue eyes sought hers. She noticed the dark shadows were gone and his skin had a healthy glow to it.

"Oh! That's ok. I haven't even seen you!" She blushed again, realizing she had given away that she'd been looking for him. "I mean, I know how hard it is. When I first left my boys at daycare, I sat sobbing in my car for a month."

He nodded. "Well, I was a bit rude, and I've always felt bad for that. But I never see you, and so I never got a chance to apologize or explain."

"That's absolutely fine," she said. "There is no apology or explanation necessary." She smiled, hoping to put him at ease. Her smile gave way to a cringe as she heard her oldest yell in pain. Turning, she saw her youngest punch her oldest in the side of the head, and the oldest was shielding his ear, unwilling to fight back because he didn't want to hurt his younger brother.

"Hey!" she yelled. "That's it. Out of there now!" The two boys made their way to the edge of the pit and climbed out. They argued loudly as they moved to their mother's side. She pulled one to either side of them, tightly grasping their shoulders to hold them still.

"These are my boys," she said. "Jason," she nodded to the older, "and Joel."

He smiled down at them. "And your name?" he asked.

"Oh! Jenna … Wilson." His blue eyes danced at her as she smiled.

"Mrs. Jenna Wilson?" he asked. Was he flirting with her?

"Uh, no, Dr. Jenna Wilson." She looked down at her sons as she blushed, purposely misunderstanding his question.

"Well, Dr. Jenna Wilson, I'm Phil, and this is my youngest daughter, Clarissa. Those," he nodded towards the two blond heads in the ball pit, "are my older two, Abby and Emma."

She nodded. "Well, you have a beautiful family." She squeezed her son's shoulders. "Should we get going?"

Her youngest looked up at her. "Mom, can we have popcorn when we get home?"

"We'll see," she said, starting to push them through the throng to the doors. "It was nice meeting you," she said, smiling up at him. He only stood a couple inches taller than she was, but he had broad shoulders and a wide chest that gave the impression of size.

"You too," he said. The toddler had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

She didn't see him again until the following year's Christmas party. Her boys were arguing. The youngest had just kicked the oldest in the shin because the oldest wouldn't let the youngest play with his new toy car. "You guys aren't off to great start," she said. "Keep this up and we're out of here."

"But Mooom," the oldest whined. "It's not my fault. He kicked me!"

"And it won't kill you to share with him and let him play for a few minutes," she said. Then she looked at the youngest, "And if I see you even thinking of kicking or hitting or biting or anything else that hurts another person, we are leaving immediately." The youngest stared at his feet, sniffling.

"Hi," a voice said behind her. She turned to see him standing there. He was alone.

"Hi," she echoed, looking up at him. She was surprised to feel her stomach lurch.

"Mom, can we go play?" her oldest asked.

"Fine," she said turning to her boys. "But no fighting." She gave them a stern look.

She watched them leave as they headed towards the bouncy toy. She heard him chuckle, a deep warm sound that seemed to erupt from deep within him. "There goes trouble," he said.

She sighed and shook her head. "They seem to be fighting all the time lately." She turned to him. "Where are your girls?" she asked.

He nodded towards the finger painting station. The toddler had grown a lot in the past year and was being watched over by her two older sisters as they sat smearing paint together. "Why can't mine get along like that?" she asked longingly.

He shook his head. "It's not always like this." Turning to her, "Do you want to sit down, maybe have some coffee?"

She looked at him surprised. "Sure," she said. "As long as I stay within sight."

He nodded. "Same. How about I go get some coffee, and you stay here in charge of keeping a watch on everyone?"

She nodded, and sat down at a table near the play area, keeping her eye on his blond girls and, with more difficulty, her busy boys. She wondered at the message the difference in their behaviour said about gender stereotypes as she watched her sons pick up two foam bat and start beating each other with them. Maybe it was parenting, and she started to wonder at the inadequacy of her parenting, resulting in her boys' rambunctious behaviour. She stared longingly at the three blond girls sitting calmly together finger painting, wishing for only a moment to have that kind of stillness and peace in her life. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought, knowing that she would never change her boys for anything in the whole world. She wouldn't mind a little break though.

He sat down across from her, two steaming cups of coffee in his hand. She took hers gratefully and said, "There was a time when I would never have had any caffeine after two pm." He smiled at her and pushed his hair back from his face. She noticed a flash of pink on the end of a long braid that stemmed from the nape of his neck. "I like your hair," she smiled, nodding at the braid.

He looked down and smiled sheepishly. "They wanted to braid my hair, and I told them they could if it was somewhere hard to see. I didn't anticipate the pink bead though," he laughed. "But they'd notice if I took it out."

She liked his smile, the way it lit up his face and made his blue eyes crinkle and dance.

They sat in silence for a few moments, watching their children.

"So, uh, what are you a doctor of?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" she looked confused.

"Last time I saw you, you introduced yourself as doctor."

"Oh," she blushed, remembering how she evaded his question about her marital status. "Uh, well, I'm a dermatologist."

"Do you have long hours?" he asked.

"No, not really. It's a specialty that lets me work regular days and be home on time to pick up my kids. Sometimes they have long days at daycare, but I'm able to be home every night."

"Their dad isn't able to pick them up ever?"

"Uh, no, he doesn't live here," she said, glancing up at him before staring into her coffee.

"Ahhh," he said, and silence fell upon them again.

"What about you?" she asked suddenly. "I've never seen you here with the girls' mother."

He shook his head. "No, she passed away, two years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry" she said, and suddenly remembered the first time she'd seen him. "That day in the parking lot …"

He nodded, "It had only been eight weeks, and they'd never had to go to daycare before. She'd been a stay at home mom, and I couldn't take any more time off work."

She looked at him sadly. "That must have been so hard."

He nodded. "It was, but we're doing okay." He looked over at his daughters and smiled before looking down at his coffee.

She impulsively asked. "Do you want to get together sometime? Like everyone? Maybe an afternoon, or come over for supper?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Sure," he shrugged. "Maybe our kids will like each other."

"Okay, when?" she asked.

He shrugged again. "Anytime works, we are pretty flexible. How about this Saturday? You three can come over for pizza night." He grinned at her.

Saturday rolled around, and she found herself more nervous than she expected, realizing she wasn't clear on the purpose of this get together. She found herself wondering what she should wear. At first she had a tshirt on, but then she found a spaghetti stain on it. Then she put on a black cardigan and blouse, but all she could see was her deep cleavage and felt like it was inappropriate. She settled on a white button down shirt and jeans, hoping she wasn't badly dressed.

Their kids didn't get along too badly. The oldest girl organized them all in a game, and then her oldest son got them all to play a rowdier game that the girls seemed to enjoy as well.

She sat talking with him in the kitchen, hands wrapped around mugs of coffee.

"You have a beautiful home," she said, glancing around the cheerful kitchen.

"Thanks," he said. "It can get pretty crazy at times."

"Trust me, you haven't seen crazy until you've been to my house on a Friday. By the time we make it through the week, there's no food, and it looks like there were several explosions. Sometimes I wonder why I spend the weekend trying to clean it up when it's just going to look like that again right away."

They sat talking as their kids played. He was a welder and worked early shifts, which was why she never saw him dropping off or picking up his kids.

"How long have you been separated?" he asked.

"Divorced," she corrected. "Five years. He left shortly after my youngest was born."

She looked at him before continuing, knowing the children in the other room couldn't hear her. "Our first was an accident, embarrassing I know. How many people get accidentally pregnant in this day and age? So we'd only been dating for a few weeks but decided to make a go of it. We had our second soon after. They're only a year apart. And then he suddenly decided this wasn't what he wanted, that it was interfering with work too much. So he moved to Vancouver, and we almost never see him."

"I'm sorry," he said, looking as though he was going to reach for her hand but pulling back. She shrugged. "I just feel bad for them because they don't understand. He pops up every now and then, which confuses things even more. I'm just glad that he left early, though, before they knew what it was like to have him around all the time."

He nodded as she took a breath, looking around the kitchen and seeing a framed photograph of a laughing blond woman. She gazed at it for a moment. "Is that your wife?" she asked, hoping she wasn't intruding with the question.

He looked at the picture and nodded.

"She was beautiful."

He nodded again. "She really was. That's how I like to remember her. She was so sick in the end, ovarian cancer, that it wasted her body. I like to remember her like that, laughing and full of life."

This time it was her turn to reach for his hand, and she didn't stop herself. They sat for a few moments, before he ventured a joke. "Well, aren't we a happy pair?"

She smiled and laughed, just as her youngest son came barreling into the kitchen. "Mom! They have fish and this HUGE fish tank! You HAVE to come see it NOW!" He started pulling her hand, and they went into the basement to look at the fish.

As they were leaving, he turned to her. "What are you doing for Christmas Eve?"

"Oh, umm, well we don't have any family here, so we are going to just hunker down with a movie ..."

"Transformers!" her oldest shouted.

"… Transformers," she corrected, "and some Christmas fettuccini I guess. What about you?"

"Well, my family is coming over, my mom, brother, and uncle, and we have this tradition every year of getting together for Chinese food Christmas Eve. I was wondering, I mean, you could bring Transformers here if you wanted?" He stopped, looking at her hopefully.

"Well, we wouldn't want to intrude," she said.

"We'd love it." His oldest daughter stood beside him and nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, sure, that sounds good then."

"Great, we'll see you in a few days then!" He waved as they made their way to their car.

"Mom, can we get fish?" her youngest asked, pulling on her coat.

"No, honey, but you'll get to see these fish again in a few days." He pouted on the way home.

Christmas Eve came, and they arrived at his door. She felt a flash of anxiety wondering what his family would think of her. A short woman with a laughing face and brown hair pulled untidily into a bun answered the door. "Hi! Come on in!" she said, cheerfully ushering them into the entrance.

Her youngest started kicking off his boots and coat, throwing them onto the floor in a heap before running down the basement stairs to look at the fish. "Hey!" she said, trying to get him to come back to put his coat away.

"Let him go," the woman said. "I can take care of this." She smiled as she picked up the discarded coat and boots.

"I'm Diane," she said, "Phil's mom. We've heard so much about you."

"Have you?"

"Oh yes," she smiled. "You boys sound exactly how mine were when they were growing up. So much energy. Lord knows how I survived!"

Phil came down the stairs. "Hi," he said as his mom went down to the basement to check on the kids. "Sorry I couldn't get the door. I was on the phone ordering Chinese."

He moved towards her, and she realized he was coming in to kiss her on the cheek. She felt her face flush. "Merry Christmas," he murmured as his beard grazed her skin.

"Merry Christmas," she said, realizing her heart was pounding in her chest.

Taking a breath, she said, "Your mom is really nice, so friendly." She smiled, hoping to buy time to cool her body's response to his kiss.

"Thanks," he said. "She was really looking forward to meeting you. Come up and meet everyone else."

He guided her into the room where two men were sitting shouting at the football game on TV.

"Hey guys! This is Jenna!" he shouted over the noise. They both turned instantly and moved towards her. His brother different from him in every way, tall, narrowly built, short dark tousled hair. His uncle was a mix of the two, stocky, piercing blue eyes, and long flowing dark hair. They greeted her warmly before turning back to the television.

"There's only a minute left," he explained as she guided her to the kitchen.

"You can go watch," she said.

"That's ok. They'll tell me how it ended." He grinned at her warmly.

The game ended amidst shouts and groans from the living room before his brother came barrelling into the kitchen to get a beer. Her oldest son walked into the kitchen and whispered, "Mom, can we watch transformers now?"

"Transformers?" Phil's brother said before she could respond. "That is by far the best movie ever. Bring it up here and we'll watch it on the big screen."

The rest of the evening was spent visiting and listening to Phil's brother wrestle with the boys and girls. He was like a big kid of his own. She enjoyed relaxing with the adult conversation and found she liked his family very much.

He phoned her the next day to wish her Merry Christmas. There was an awkward pause before he asked, "I was wondering if I could take you to dinner?"

Her heart leapt into her throat and she had to take a moment before choking out, "Sure! I'd like that."

"Great," he sounded relieved. "Would tomorrow night be too soon?"

She paused, wondering who she could get to sit for her on Boxing Day.

"My mom and brother would take care of your boys if you'd like to bring them here," he added.

"That would be great," she said. "They'd love that." She cringed, realizing she could have said she'd like it too.

She arrived at the door with her sons. They could hardly contain their excitement at seeing Phil's brother again and burst through the door before it was fully open, dumping their boots and coats on the floor before jumping on the dark haired brother.

He ushered her out the door before she could intervene, his mother shouting after, "Don't rush home!"

She found dinner painful because of her intense attraction to him. He looked amazing in his dark jeans and sweater which stretched tantalizing over his broad chest. After an hour of awkward conversation, which was unusual for them, he looked at her and said, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Desperately," she breathed.

They went to her place, and she was relieved that she had spent the day cleaning and tidying, hoping in the back of her mind the evening would end here.

They stripped their clothes the minute they were inside the door. They kissed hungrily, only breaking apart to remove sweaters, as they clumsily made their way to her bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed with laughter. He kissed her neck before capturing his breasts in his mouth, and she arched into him, moaning as he bit her nipple lightly. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she rolled them so that she was straddling him. She gazed down into his eyes, her fingers exploring the broad chest that she had been fantasizing about for so long. She leaned over to rummage in her bedside table before pulling out a condom, which she expertly fit onto him. She leaned over him for a kiss, and pulled him up into a sitting position, her hands tangled in his long blond hair. They both groaned as she lowered herself onto him. After stopping for a moment in blissful fullness, she rocked his hips, making him moan deeply. She rocked her hips again, setting a slow agonizing rhythm, his blue eyes gazing up at her pleadingly.

With a growl he rolled them over. She gasped as he fit into her even more deeply, wrapping her legs around him as he claimed her mouth. He withdrew completely before plunging into her again. She cried out and her head fell back. He thrust into her rhythmically, her hips coming up to meet his as they both groaned with pleasure and need. He dropped his hand between her legs. Her orgasm ripped through her harshly as she cried out into his mouth. He followed her soon after, groaning as she held him tightly to her.

He collapsed over her as they lay on the bed gasping for breath.

"Ohh," she said finally. "It's been way too long."

"Same," he said, only able to speak in single syllables.

He moved off of her and disposed of the condom. He returned to the bed where they moved together, wrapping their arms around each other contently.

"What are you doing for New Years?" she asked.


	2. Thorin and Kili - Winnipeg Folk Festival

**A/N: This is cowritten with kkolmakov. She has also posted it on her own profile under the title "We Are Scattered Through Time and Space." I strongly encourage you to take a look at her work. Her OC pairing of Wren with Thorin has nearly become canon for me. For a prompt, I'd given her the Peter, Paul, and Mary song "I'm in Love with a Big Blue Frog" from the 1960s. It was such a weird prompt for a Hobbit FF. I had lots of suggestions about what to do with it, and I didn't expect her to accept when I offered to do it with her. As we both live in Canada, the Winnipeg Folk Festival seemed like the perfect setting. This piece uses the OC from What the Future Brings. However, you don't need to read it (or kkolmakov's work) in order to (hopefully) enjoy this one shot.**

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_1976, Winnipeg Folk Festival_

The girl stumbled on a root and swore under her breath. The old habit of not mentioning the name in vain made her halt for a second after that, and she shook her head. You can take a girl from an oppressive religious upbringing, but you can't turn her into a liberal independent woman right away. At least not without some booze.

The fire was warm and welcoming, and she looked at the faces of five people sitting around it. Well, four, the fifth was sitting slightly aside, leaning on a tree. The dark haired hunk caressing the guitar smiled back, white toothed inviting grin. She came closer, and he winked.

She slid on a log near him, and he bumped his shoulder into hers. "What's your name, foxy?"

"Wren," it was not her name really, but she was a free bird these days. And no way in hell she would ever admit being named Eunice Edna.

"Killian, and that's my brother Phil." The blond was even hotter, shagadelic to her taste. Or not. She could never choose between chocolate and butterscotch. She was a real daughter of the prairies. She liked both in her fudge.

The other two sitting there were a young skinny kid, probably around seventeen, and an immensely foxy chick. For a second Wren thought that if given a choice she would go for the girl instead of either of the brothers. Short dark hair cut like a pixie's, lively brown eyes, striking cheekbones. Wren especially liked the mouth, sensual and strong, she could imagine that is a mouth of a person who laughs a lot. The girl smiled and stretched her hand, "Reese." The voice was sexy and warm, and Wren smiled wider.

Wren liked the combination of confidence and femininity surrounding Reese's small but curvy body. In a gauzy blue peasant top that left her shoulders bare, and soft denim bell bottoms, she looked chill and endlessly appetizing. She had graceful collarbones and slender wrists. Yes, Wren definitely liked her a lot.

"That's my Uncle John there," Killian waved his hand towards the fifth one. He seemed to be sleeping, large heavy body leaning on the trunk. "And that's Orwell." Wren shook the youngest kid's hand and a feeling of kinship flooded her. Another child of Steinbeck no doubt. "Do you sing, Wren?"

"Lord, no!" she squeaked. She was honestly straightforward horrible.

"Uncle, will you sing with us?" The guy by the tree slightly turned his head towards the fire and opened his eyes. They were so bright blue, and Wren felt heat pooling in her underwear. Once his face was lit with the fire, she realized that she was not having any butterscotch or chocolate tonight. She was indulging in a copious amount of that aged Canadian Club.

He smirked lopsidedly, "Not if you are holding the guitar, kid. Stop torturing the instrument and give it to your girl."

Killian sighed and passed the guitar to Reese. She had to stand to take it from him and dipped in for a lingering kiss before she settled back, throwing the guitar strap over her neck. She began plucking at the strings experimentally. "You didn't have it tuned, baby," she murmured distractedly before tightening the strings. Killian only laughed and shrugged while his uncle snorted behind him.

"Any requests?" she asked, glancing around the circle. Everyone shook their head, and so she dropped her gaze back to the strings before picking up a slow folk tune. "Reminiscent of Woodstock," Reese said as the tune took melody, conjuring images and memories of 1969.

Glancing up at the new addition to the group, she added, "I don't like to sing either, but don't any of you hold back now, you know," with a grin and a wink at Wren, noticing the redhead's wide open curious eyes, before dropping back to concentrate on the strings.

Reese hadn't missed the way Wren's eyes had lingered on John as he sat brooding by the tree before returning her gaze to the fire. She was really drawn to the new girl. She loved her dress, belted at the waist and falling to the ground. She loved how it was a shocking shade of pink that clashed horribly with her red hair, which Reese was terribly jealous of. She'd always wanted long curly red hair and would definitely have worn it with bright pink of she'd had it. As a rule Reese avoided pink because everyone always told her how good it looked with her dark hair, making her feel like a cupcake.

Reese also loved Wren's freckles and admired how the freckles served to add to Wren's beauty, standing out on her porcelain white skin. They even sprayed across her adorable delicate nose. Her eyes were slightly slanted, and Reese wondered if she were to get a close look if she'd find that they were green. It would be too perfect if she did find them to be green.

Wren's red lips appeared to be quirked in a permanent smile, and the entire effect gave her the appearance of an exotic wood nymph, playful and mischievous. Appearances aside though, she loved how Wren had just fallen in with them so easily. She seemed friendly and chill and like she could be a lot of fun.

Reese was thoughtful as she continued to strum quietly. Killian's uncle was a good guy but had a tendency to come across as brooding, almost sulky. Maybe it was the result of having to help his sister raise his nephews after their father had died, and the brooding and serious demeanor had simply become a habit. They'd talked him into coming to the festival with them in hopes that he would kick back and have a good time. She always enjoyed his company, but she'd never really seen him relax in all of the eight years she and Killian had been together. Maybe it was premature, but possibly this Wren girl was just what they'd hoped to find to help John relax a bit.

Wren sat and listened to Reese's quiet soft voice, when she heard John joining in. Her eyebrows hiked up, surprised that he even knew the words. Seemingly without any effort he was following the melody, his voice deep and smoky. And then she fully realized the effect his low velvet was having on her body. Tingly little shocks were running through her spine. She shivered and turned to look at him.

He still looked rather peevish, but it was obvious he enjoyed singing. His posture was relaxed, but she worked with men every day and knew that that was a fake laid back attitude. The guy was uncomfortable. And then his nephew offered a wonderful solution to that problem.

Killian lit up a joint. "Do you smoke?"

"Not cigarettes," Wren smiled coyly, and Killian chuckled as he passed it to her. Wren inhaled deeply before passing it to Phil, who then gave it back to her, skipping Orwell.

"Come on, guys," Orwell whined as the brothers laughed at his disappointment.

"Sorry buddy," Phil said. "We're not that loose. Give it a couple years."

Killian settled beside Reese, bringing the joint to her lips so that she didn't need to stop playing. She felt the electrical charge from his nearness that was always present, even after eight years together. He pulled the joint away as she inhaled before bringing his lips to hers, surprising her and making her cough. "Jesus," she sputtered. "I hate it when you do that." He laughed at her playfully, and she couldn't help joining him. He stood and moved behind her, nestling her between his legs as he rubbed her back while she coughed.

Killian leaned backwards and passed the joint to his uncle, who to Wren's surprise took it. She tried not to look, but the thought of his lips closing on it made her peek. The view didn't disappoint. The fingers were long, palm large, and she absolutely loved the way he hollowed his cheeks under a thick black beard breathing in.

Finally able to stop coughing, Reese resumed playing. "You're a goof," she huffed at Killian, catching Wren's eyes and winking at her again, liking how Wren grinned back at her.

"Do you like Peter, Paul, and Mary?" Reese asked her before switching to a more playful song, targeted at Killian. "I'm in love with a big blue frog and a big blue frog love me." All but Killian joined in on the next line, "It's not as bad as it appears. He wears glasses and he's six foot three!" before erupting into laughter at his expense.

Reese felt Killian laughing too before he leaned forward to murmur, "Very funny," and then playfully nipped at her ear, making goosebumps rise on her skin.

John got up and came to the fire. He sat on the log near Orwell, who immediately tensed. Wren didn't blame him, the guy was intimidating. Large wide body, dark hair in a ponytail, an overall gloomy disposition. She couldn't wait to sink her teeth in it. She caught Orwell's eyes and gave him an encouraging wink. He blushed.

John leaned and picked up a bottle of beer. And then he pushed another one in Orwell's hand. The kid's face lit up. "Not for you, pass it to our guest." Orwell's face dropped but he grabbed the bottle and got up. He made a few steps towards Wren, but she was faster. In a swift move she got up, picked up the beer from his hand and flopped into Orwell's empty seat. She smiled into John's widened eyes and took a swig. "Hi." The heavy brows hiked up.

Orwen shifted between his feet confusedly before sitting in Wren's place. Phil clapped him on the back and turned to the girl, "So what is it that you do, Wren?"

"I work in Dominion Motors."

"Really?" Phil's bafflement was mirrored on others' faces as well.

"Do you take calls?" John's low voice made her turn to him. She chuckled and put the bottle on the ground. Then she splayed her fingers and showed her hands, first to him and then to the rest of the group. They were calloused and black from the oil and grime that could never come off completely.

"I fix engines, and you are a chauvinistic pig." Her tone was light though, and she bumped her shoulder into him. He was staring at her. She drank some more beer and licked her lips.

Orwell expressed everyone's opinion when he breathed out, "Wicked..."

Wren looked at John appraisingly. "You are the grumpy uptight type, aren't you?" She suddenly pushed her small hands into his hair, and he choked on his drink. "You need a couple braids in here. To match the gig, you know." She was so obviously teasing him that Killian roared with laughter. She shook her copper mane, "I can sacrifice a couple of my beads for you." She laughed into his stunned face and winked to Reese.

Reese bit back a grin, surprised but not disliking Wren's forwardness, and changed the tune again, the song familiar, and the group started to sing when Killian murmured into Reese's again, "Did you see how the little bird is looking at uncle?" Reese nodded, not wanting to risk being heard but glad the singing drowned out his lower voice.

Killian continued to nuzzle Reese's ear lightly, and she finally whispered. "You don't think she's a little young for him?"

Killian snorted. "She doesn't seem to care. Age is just a number."

Reese smiled at his cavalier attitude. He could never let things happen on their own, though, and her eyes widened in alarm as he whispered suddenly, "I have a fab idea." Killian's ideas didn't always turn out well.

"Orwell, Phil, can you guys jog back to the car to grab more beer? I think we just finished the last of it."

"Right on!" said Orwell, jumping to his feet eager to please. Phil was more reluctant.

"Get it yourself, you chump," he muttered.

"I'm busy," Killian said, nuzzling into Reese's shoulder. Reese was sure he wore the pouty look he got that Phil could never resist in him. Killian knew his audience well.

Phil sighed loudly and dramatically as he rose to his feet, muttering as Orwell took off at a run. Reese wondered what Killian was up to, thinking it was horribly unfair of him to get his brother to walk so far. The car was easily a thirty minute walk each way. Phil really would do anything for Killian.

Suddenly Killian stood up, pulling a surprised Reese to her feet with him. "Excuse us," he said unceremoniously. His uncle snorted as Killian caught Reese's lips in a dramatic, heated kiss, leaving no question about the reason for his sudden desire to pull her out of the clearing and into the surrounding bushes.

Reese glanced apologetically at Wren as she rested the guitar on the ground. "We'll be back."

Wren's answer proved Reese's suspicion that the girl was a kindred soul and that John was so in for it. "Take your time," the redhead saluted them with her beer, and they stumbled into the bushes with laughter, Killian grabbing her by the hand and twirling her a couple times as they went.

Wren looked at the backs of the leaving couple. They were so groovy, and acute envy clenched her heart. There was a heated passion between them, and a warm intimacy, and an obvious ardent friendship. The way he was hugging her from behind, their bodies fitting like two pieces of puzzle, as cliche as it sounded even in her head, showed the obvious connection between them. They were a beautiful couple, her perky and robust bosom, shapely hips, tiny waist, his wide shoulders, narrow hips, the way they moved in accordance, their bodies constantly touching. Wren mused that they obviously had the best of both a long time couple with their familiarity and connectivity, and a still burning fire of those who just became lovers. Wren sighed and looked at the man she was left with alone.

He sat seemingly relaxed, elbows on his knees, large hands loosely hanging between his long legs. Wren peaked, the bottle in his hand was almost empty. She thought she saw a bit of flush on the cheekbones, and she hoped that would make him a bit more chill.

"So what is it that you do, John?" He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"I teach computer science at the university."

"You are a prof? That's so far out!" He lifted a brow. "Do your students leave an apple on your table, John?" He sat up straighter and looked at her attentively.

"You are an odd one, Wren."

"You will find, John, that the right term is a shick chick," she smiled wider and clanked her bottle to his.

And then she moved closer so that her shoulder was touching his upper arm. He was so much bigger that she had to lift her face to look him in the eyes. "You have no idea how to mellow out, do you?" His lips twitched in a suppressed smile.

"That's what my nephews always say. That I need to mellow out," he mockingly drew out the term as if emphasizing its evident preposterousness.

"As a prof you should understand that it all comes down to the choice of teaching material," she took the bottle from his hand, and he followed it with his eyes. And then she got up and stood in front of him. For once he needed to lift his face to look at her. She cupped his face and gently scratched the beard.

She licked her lips stretching the anticipation. He was not resisting but neither did he encourage her in any way. She moved even closer, between his knees, and her little palms slid on his ears. She rubbed the pinnae and pulling slightly she tilted his head back some more. He obeyed, and she lowered her lips on his.

She started gently, soft caresses of slightly open lips, the tip of her tongue sliding on his bottom lip. He inhaled sharply, and his palms lay on her waist. She smiled into the kiss, and slid one hand at the back of his head, down the neck and under the collar of his blue button-up. The fingers of another hand leapt onto the buttons on his shirt, opening three of them and then she returned her palm to his nape. She pushed both hands around his shoulder down his back. Her upper body presses into him, and he finally tightened his grip on her.

He either had been holding himself back before, or he was a quick learner, but he started catching up with her, her scorching palms sliding down and grabbing her buttocks. She chuckled and nipped his lip. The hands squeezed her bum.

She stepped back and tilted her head. She gave him a look over, enjoying the view of flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips. He frowned in confusion. And then she stretched her hand to him. "Common, do you really want to stay here and your nephews to catch you making out with a random bird?"

He placed his hand into her small strong hand, and she pulled him up. "Where are we going?" He had to clear out his throat, his voice gruff.

"Well, it will be hard to find an unoccupied patch, but I'm sure we'll manage."

She led him among the trees, peeking at him from time to time. His face was increasingly hesitant, and she realized he needed reminding why he even went with her. She sharply turned around and pushed his back into the nearest tree. And then she actually jumped a little and pulled him down to herself.

"You are wickedly tall, dude," she smiled into his eyes, "You'll have to meet me halfway here, John." He paused a second and then making an internal decision he pressed his lips to hers. He tasted delicious, and she moaned into his mouth.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and this time he started backing her up, until she smacked her back into a trunk. And then he placed his hands on the tree, on the sides of her head, bending down, deepening the kiss.

"It's best if you sit, John," he hummed in agreement, obviously having not heard what she said. She chuckled and slightly pushed him away from her neck, that he was sucking on. "Sit!" His brows jumped up, and he gave her an impish smirk. That was a new expression, and suddenly she thought she might have bitten off way more that she could chew. But it was too late to back up. And besides, he was delectable!

He spun them around and sat down, his back to the tree. While sitting down he managed to brush the tip of his nose to one of her breasts, and she giggled.

"You are full of delightful surprises, aren't you John?" He grabbed her hand and pulled her down. She picked up her skirt and lowered herself, straddling him. He cupped the back of her head, threading his fingers into her mane, and for a second he paused and looked into her laughing eyes.

Whatever he saw there seemed to convince him he was doing the right thing, and he caught her mouth. Kissing, learning each other, hands exploring bodies, her fingers deftly opened the rest of his buttons. Normally Wren would go for less chest hair, less mass, and less of everything, to be honest, but his wide chest, hot skin, hard muscles felt surprisingly perfect. She trailed her tongue along his neck and gently bit into his jaw. The beard added to the experience.

His hands were on her shoulder blades, and he felt a row of buttons on the back of the dress. He managed four and then growled in frustration. She chuckled, "Don't you dare ruining my dress, you putz!" He lifted a brow. "No," she drew her brows together in a mocking strict grimace, and he chuckled.

"You are a bossy one," somehow he sounded pleased with it.

"I am also very skinny," she laughed and shimmied her shoulders out of the top of the dress. It pooled on her waist.

"Convenient," he smirked and unclasped her bra. She helped him pull it off, and his large palms covered the small peaks.

"Not much to offer here, sorry," she gave him a cheeky grin.

"They are perfect," he pulled her for an unhurried kiss. They somehow slowed down and spent some time exploring more. And then she pushed her hand in a pocket and pulled out a condom.

"I see you came prepared."

"I used to be a Girl Guide. Not quite a scout, but I'm all for their motto, you know," she pushed from him for a second and her fingers slid on the buckle of his jeans.

A bit of shuffling, and her strong hand encircled his cock. He puffed air out. "It's been a while." She cocked her head on the side.

"Well, it's like riding a bike," she rolled the condom over him, and lifted her body over him. He placed his palms under her knees, and she giggled.

"Ticklish?" He smiled back at her, and then the palms slid up, bunching up the skirt, and he hooked his fingers on the waist of her underwear. With this problem solved, she lowered herself on him.

She went slowly, it had been a while for her too, and with his rather impressive length finally buried in her, she realized she'd been holding her breath and exhaled. He was taking measured breaths too.

"I know you are probably feeling a bit impatient here, but can we do something for me, John?" Her tone was surprisingly even and polite. He blinked, trying really hard to concentrate on her.

"Sure, what can I do you for?" She chuckled at the pun and quickly kissed his lips.

"Can I turn around? It really works so much better for me."

"Turn around whe…?" He choked on his question when she swung her leg on the other side on his body, and then slowly turned her whole body, her pelvis still firmly pressed into him, now she was facing away from him.

He sat up and pushed her hair away from her nape. Then he presses his lips to the smooth skin there, and his palms slid on her breasts. She arched into him and started moving. He could not keep the loud groan back.

Her hips setting a nice forceful rhythm, her arms thrown back, wrapped around his neck, his mouth pressing greedy open-mouthed kisses to her neck and shoulders, they were moving in a surprising for their first time accordance. He encircled her tiny waist with his hands, index fingers and thumbs almost meeting around it, but soon the palms slid on the hips, helping her move.

She was right, the position was definitely working for her. Soon enough she was making small adorable mewling noises and painfully grabbing handfuls of his hair. He knew he was going to cum any moment and to his own surprise he realized he really needed her to go first.

A new woman, a new body to deal with, he could only rely on his guts. One hand still caressing her breast, he slid another down onto her clit and gently rubbed the bundle of nerves. She moaned louder but it was hard to say if he was making any progress. She was apparently very vocal in general. And he really couldn't muster enough coherence to ask.

He bit into her shoulder, holding back with the remnants of his will power, when she grabbed his hand and roughly pressed it to her clit. In a sudden surge of inspiration he pressed his thumb to it and gave it a forceful swirl. She cried out and came.

Her muscles clenched around him. He barked a swear. She was tight to start with, now it felt like she was choking him. In the best possible of ways. He groaned and came as well. She fell ahead, her small palms pressed into his legs, small body shaking, delicate back in front of his eyes. And in the last moment before his brain turned off completely, he grabbed her and pulled to himself.

She twisted her neck and he caught her mouth in an askew kiss. She moaned into his mouth, her walls still milking him, and he moaned as well. He fell back, the bark of a tree scratching his back through the shirt that they hadn't taken off. She relaxed into his body, and suddenly picked up his hand. She pulled it to her lips and kissed the inside of his wrist. A caress was unexpected and unusual, but wasn't everything about her?

He nuzzled her hair and then chuckled. "Are you thinking of how your nephew set us up so smoothly?" He froze in surprise. That was exactly what he was thinking about. "They are fab, I hope they are having fun in the bushes as well." John didn't miss the "as well".

She slid off him, and he groaned. Then she turned around and sit on his legs just above his knees. "I think I really like you, John." He licked his lips.

"I think I really like you back." She smiled.

"Then let's make it worthwhile. After all your nephew and his foxy chick now have to wonder through woods to give us some room. Might as well enjoy it to the max."

Reese and Killian had fallen silent as they moved deeper into the trees. They didn't speak at all, comfortably waiting until they were alone. They had to walk quite a distance, passing several other groups and couples, before finally reaching a secluded area that afforded them some privacy.

"So," Reese began lightly as they stopped in a small clearing far from the noise of the festival, "Do you think you've managed to weave your magic around your uncle and that poor girl?"

"Was is too much?" he asked, suddenly sounding insecure in his impulsive decision. This was a side of Killian only she and Phil got to see, the one that worried about what others thought of him, whose confidence was constantly quaking, so different from the spirited self assurance he was careful to portray when around others.

"No," she reassured him as she pulled him into a kiss. "Although we'll see what Phil says after he's done hiking to the car to find you didn't forget any beer there." Killian laughed, a lot less concerned about what Phil thought of him than what John did.

"I hope he goes for it," he mused as she began to unbutton his shirt. "He seems so lonely."

Reese murmured her agreement as she kissed the skin revealed behind each button of his shirt. "I just worry so much that he's going to be alone for ever, you know?" Killian continued as Reese nodded and she pushed his shirt back from his shoulders. She loved his broad shoulders and brought her mouth to nuzzle gently as his collarbone before carefully trailing her tongue to his shoulder. She brought her hands to his wrists and firmly slid her hands up his arms, bringing them to toy with the shaggy hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck.

"I just hope he goes for it," Killian murmured again, distractedly. Reese wondered if John knew how much Killian worried about him. His brow was furrowed and he didn't seem to have noticed that she was toying with the waist of his pants, trailing her fingers over the sensitive skin by his hips.

"Baby," she murmured, "Did you drag me all the way out here just to talk about your uncle?"

Killian blinked in surprise before looking down at her as though he'd forgotten she was there. He stared at her for a moment before grinning and dropping his head to capture her lips with is. "Sorry," he murmured as he brought his hand up to cup her face gently, his kiss deep and slow. Breaking the kiss he murmured against her lips, "Is that better?" She nodded as he kissed her softly again before moving to place light kisses along her jaw. Reese dropped her head back with a sigh as Killian ran his tongue down the side of her neck to her shoulder, nipping gently at her collarbone.

"She's very sexy, don't you think?" Reese mused as Kili's mouth moved to her bare shoulder, his hands straying underneath her loose shirt to gently stroke the skin at her lower back. He paused, raising his head to look at her again, one eyebrow quirked. Reese smirked at him before she continued, "Don't be a goof. But I wouldn't kick her out of bed."

He laughed as he pulled her tunic up over her head, baring her breasts to the cool night air. They'd always joked about the possibility of bringing someone else into their bed but hadn't ever pursued it, despite living in the time of free love. Killian dropped his hands to her hips and stood considering her. "I could never share you with anyone," he said as his eyes came to gaze into hers.

She shook her head, bringing her arms up to hang loosely over his shoulders. "Me neither," she whispered as he moved in to kiss her again, never breaking their gaze. He stopped just before his lips touched hers.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath tickling the skin of her upper lip.

"I love you too," she answered as she closed the remaining distance between their mouths. As their lips moved over each others'. Killian dropped his hands to cup Reese's breasts, weighing them gently as his thumb grazed over the peak. She moaned softly while he continued to circle her nipples with his thumbs, slowly teasing them into hard points. He grinned as she moaned again. As much as Killian experienced insecurity in his day to day life, this was an area where his confidence never wavered.

Reese's hands dropped to his waist as she unbuttoned his jeans. He of course wasn't wearing underwear. He never did.

She tickled the sensitive skin between his hips, slowly unzipping his fly. Reese grazed his pelvis with her nails, making him break their kiss as he moaned in protest when her hands stopped at the base of his cock, leaving it trapped in his pants. She wanted to slow things down, even briefly, wanting to fully enjoy this moment of privacy together.

Killian leaned his forehead against hers while his hands dropped to her waist, breathing deeply as she stroked her hands up his abdomen, his muscles rippling slightly at the light touch, before skimming her nails down towards his straining erection again. This time she tugged his jeans lightly, pulling them down just enough that his erection could spring free, hanging heavily between his legs. Rather than touching him, she dragged her hands over his hips while dropping her mouth to capture his nipple, nipping lightly before circling it with her tongue while her hands trailed to his jeans now slung low on his hips, stopping to dip into the cleft between his buttocks.

Killian dropped his head back in a moan, his eyes fluttering shut, as she traced her fingers downwards, dragging them lightly between his ass cheeks, pushing his pants over his hips as they fell to his ankles. As her fingers reached the bottom of his bum, dipping lightly between his legs, she drew them around his hips again to finally grasp his straining cock in her hands.

This time the growl issued from Killian was low and raw as he brought his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss while thrusting his hips forward, rutting his cock against her hand. Suddenly hungry and demanding, he quickly kicked off his boots and jeans, pushing her to the ground to lie beneath him. She didn't mind the feel of the cold ground against her skin, drinking in the scent of the earth and trees in the cool night air.

Reese gasped as Killian caught her nipple in his mouth, biting it lightly before moving his mouth down her abdomen until he arrived at the waist of her denim bell bottoms. Undoing her fly, he brought his hands to her back to lift her hips as he drew her pants off, tossing them aside as he spread her legs to settle between them, lowering his mouth to her.

Reese cried out quietly as he ran his tongue over her folds before bringing it to circle her clit lightly. Planting her feet firmly she whimpered as she drove her hips upward trying to grind into him as he flicked his tongue. "Alright my love," he laughed as he brought his hands to her, slowly sliding a long finger into her while continuing to expertly swirl her clit with his tongue. Reese whimpered at the feel of his finger inside of her, groaning as he curled his finger upwards to stroke the bundle of nerves against her inner wall. She continued to drive herself down onto his hand as he added two more fingers, stretching her deliciously as he continued to lave her clit.

Reese threw one arm over her eyes as she always did when she felt herself approaching orgasm while Killian was going down on her. Her mind was flooded with tantalizing images and memories of all the sex they'd had together. A particularly arousing image of their spending their five year anniversary at a swingers' party floated into her mind. Although they were unwilling to share each other with anyone else, they had no issues with enjoying each other in front of an audience. It had been one of the sexiest evenings they'd spent together, and its memories frequently served to hasten her climax.

Reese held her breath before groaning as her orgasm took her, becoming rigid as she bucked her hips upwards. Killian's mouth latched onto her clitoris, prolonging the torrent that gripped her body. Not waiting too long, Killian rose up above her and positioned himself between her legs before plunging deeply into her. Reese sobbed as he filled her completely, her knees rising up beside his hips to allow him to push deeply into her. Killian groaned as she clenched her muscles around him to draw him in fully.

They clung to each other, taking a moment to breathe, before Killian withdrew slowly and thrust back into Reese as she tangled her arms around his back, arching forward to bury her face in his neck and rock her hips forward to meet his.

Reese felt her orgasm mounting again as their bodies moved together and before long violent pleasure tore through her. Reese writhed beneath Killian as her muscles clenched him tightly, making him groan deeply as he continued to snap his hips forward. Killian's breath caught as his eyes squeeze tightly shut, his movements becoming erratic as a moan caught in his throat. He thrust into Reese deeply as he came, a strangled groan wrenched from his body.

Killian collapsed over her, gasping for breath. He was heavy on top of her, and Reese rolled her shoulder slightly forward to prop him up so that she was still able to draw breathe comfortably while he recovered. She stroked his back gently, his skin slick with sweat, before Killian rolled off of her suddenly, withdrawing from her and releasing a gush of fluid over her thighs. They lay beside each other, looking up at the dark night sky with their hands tangled together.

Killian broke the silence first. "Do you think it's too early to go back?"

Reese shrugged. "Who knows. Phil and Orwell will be back soon anyway so we might as well." She rolled towards him, stretching to kiss him lightly on his scruff before they rose to their feet, looking for discarded clothing in the dark. They were silent again as they made their way back through the trees towards the camp.

Reese woke the next day curled into Killian's warmth, pale light of the morning filtering through the fabric of the tent. She could hear the crackling of a fire, assuming it was likely built by Phil who tended to wake early. She could hear him moving around the campsite carefully. Reese rolled slowly, careful not to wake Killian, as she drew a loose dress and bulky sweater over her naked body, before quietly exiting the tent.

Moving towards the campfire she smiled at Phil. "Good morning," she murmured quietly, not wishing to make noise that would wake the others. Orwell was also still sleeping. "Any sign of John this morning?" she asked. When Reese and Killian had returned to the campsite, Phil and Orwell had been back but both John and Wren were gone. John hadn't been in his tent when they'd checked it, and Killian had been delighted.

"It doesn't mean that they're together, you know," Reese had said, but Killian had been positive that John and Wren had snuck off somewhere to shag.

Phil shook his head but added, "I heard him go into his tent last night around 3am." Reese smiled at him fondly. Knowing Phil, he had likely been waiting up for their uncle, slightly worried that something may have happened to him. Phil and Killian were often getting into trouble, but Phil was mostly dragged along by Killian out of desire to protect Killian from disaster. Phil was always taking care of everyone, worrying and making sure they were all okay.

"Cool," Reese said as she settled on a log, pulling her sweater around her against the dewy morning. She could hear a band starting up at the main stage but knew it was unlikely any of their group would find their way to the stage for hours. Orwell could sleep until supper if permitted, and when Killian woke he tended to be peevish, not quite the morning person one would expect in someone normally so upbeat and chipper.

Reese and Phil sat in silence staring into the fire when suddenly their reverie was broken by a low growl followed by a giggle. Reese's head whipped towards the noise, determining that it was in fact coming from John's tent. The giggle had definitely been made by a female. Never in her life could she imagine John, or any Durinson for that matter, giggling. Her jaw dropped as she quickly turned back to look at Phil, whose features mirrored her own surprised delight. Reese settled more comfortably onto the log, grinning at Phil as they relaxed back into silence.

After several minutes, the silence was broken again by another moan, this one slightly louder than the first, followed by a quiet hushing noise. Reese clapped her hand over her mouth this time as her eyes caught Phil's again, barely able to stifle a laugh. Phil looked torn between wanting to laugh himself and pain at bearing active witness to his uncles' sexual exploits. Even in the age of free love, everyone had their limits.

Reese barely suppressed a snort as another low moan, definitely John's, came from the tent, and Phil dropped his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Looking up at her over his hands, he shook his head in dismay.

Reese jerked her head towards the entrance to the site questioningly and mimed walking with her hands. Killian and Orwell were both heavy sleepers and would not be woken by the lovers' soft sounds, but Reese was more interested in a calm relaxed walk than trying to ignore the sexual show going on only ten feet away. Phil nodded gratefully, and they both rose to their feet, ready to vacate the area and allow the lovers some privacy.

It seemed that Reese was more concerned about John and Wren's privacy than they were, though, as the noises from the tent reached a fevered pitch and a female voice cried out. "Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

Reese froze, her eyes as large as saucers as she looked at Phil who stood rigid in the spot, horror plastered across his features .

"Wren, you are too loud..." John's low voice growled, only to be interrupted by Wren's commanding tone.

"Put your mouth back when you had it!"

Reese and Phil turned quickly, moving away from the campsite as quickly as possible, unsuccessfully as they heard Wren cry out shamelessly as she presumably achieved her climax via John's ministrations. This event was closely followed by the sound of a tent unzipping.

Reese looked over to see Killian standing in the entrance to their tent, stark naked, holding her straw cowboy hat in front of his crotch, hair wildly disheveled, red lines down the side of his face where the blankets had been bunched under his cheek while he slept, with a look of fury on his face. "Who is being so fucking loud?" he shouted crossly. "It's barely dawn, and I'm trying to god damn fucking sleep."

"Watch your tongue, Killian!" John's booming voice came from the tent, and Reese bit her lip so that Kili wouldn't see her laugh. John was always a guardian, even with his face apparently between a girl's legs.

"And you put yours back to use," Wren's voice was both assertive and seductive.

This was too much for Phil who was now crouched on the ground, holding his head in his hands as he groaned. Reese stood shaking her head as she took in all of Killian's furious naked glory, particularly enjoying the full view of his backside as he turned back into the tent, crushing her hat as he flopped forward on his stomach to presumably go back to sleep, not even bothering to close the door of the tent again. She noticed not a sound came from John's tent now and one would never had guessed at the lascivious noises that had been issued by its occupants only moments before.

Orwell crawled out of the tent he was sharing with Phil and groggily made his way over to the fire, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, what's going on?" he muttered sleepily, clearly not expecting an answer as he sat down, yawning widely.

Reese and Phil looked at each other and shrugged. Abandoning their walk, Reese busied herself with making coffee while Phil asked Orwell if he wanted breakfast. Kili's loud snores told them he had returned to sleep and permeated their discussion as Phil and Orwell began to laugh about some of the antics they'd seen other festival goers up to during their walk to the car.

Reese moved to her tent and reached into the open door to pull out her guitar, murmuring, "Hey Baby," to Killian as she jostled him gently, disrupting his snores. He groaned in protest as she said, "There's coffee."

Reese returned to the fire and began to strum her guitar quietly, laughing along with Phil and Orwell's stories as the smell of toast and potatoes began to permeate the campfire. Killian finally came to join them, his pants barely hanging from his naked hips as he stumbled to the fire, holding a t-shirt in his hand. He sat beside Reese with a groan who set aside her guitar briefly and reached to pour him a cup of coffee, pushing it into his hands. He grunted in thanks and she saw the hint of a reluctant smile quirk his lips.

Suddenly they quieted as they heard loud laughter coming from John's tent, followed by Wren's voice. "Stop tickling me, you brute!"

Reese heard John guffaw and raised her eyebrows at Kili, wondering if she'd ever heard John sound so relaxed before. The sound of the zipper on John's tent followed, and he literally fell out of the tent to the ground, laughing. Reese grinned at the scene, not missing the flash of a pink bead in his hair attached to the end of a long braid by his ear.

Wren coolly stepped over John, her posture dignified and proud. Reese had to bite her lip again to keep from laughing as Wren regally surveyed the group before her, Phil staring at her and Killian glowering again, while Orwell looked around in confusion.

And then Reese couldn't help but applaud laughingly as Wren suddenly swept into a low bow before her audience, her unruly curls bouncing and burning in the morning sun.


End file.
